


All the Time

by feathersburnt



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon, Reunion Fic, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4665513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feathersburnt/pseuds/feathersburnt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A reunion in the rain leaves Nezumi and Shion at a loss, hopefully finding the answer in skipping to what they'd both been waiting for</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Time

**Author's Note:**

> for melbourne and their impatience/writing fuel <3

Coming back to No.6 was harder than it was leaving it. 

In Nezumi’s travels, he had watched the distance grow between him and the now-collapsed wall. He’d put it there himself, walking day in and day out just to get away. 

Leaving had been difficult. 

Leaving _Shion_ had been difficult. 

After spending a night in his house, sleeping beside him in a bed much like the one they’d shared for those six months, meeting the woman who had waited on both of them just as long… It was scary how he could see himself staying behind.  
But he was a drifter, and he’d let himself stay in that place for too long. The hatred he had felt for No.6 had allowed for him to at least tolerate living near the city, but he was like the wind—hard to pin down, hard to keep in one place.

No.6 was and always had been Nezumi’s prison. A living shackle, a constant reminder. He hoped that if he did come back, it wouldn’t be anymore. 

It wasn’t until the wanderlust faded that he started to make his way back. Slowly but surely hopping towns until it was a straight shot to the place that had haunted his dreams when he was 16. But that was 6 years prior, and a lot could happen in that time.  
Poetic, then, that the day he returned to No.6-- after another who knows how long walking, resolute, to a place he might not even want to stay-- that it rained. His old scarf had long ago worn itself threadbare, so he clung to the hood of a newer jacket and fought the aggressive wind that tried its best to blow him back out of the city.

The layout looked to be the same, though it was difficult to see what had changed through the sheets of rain. He barely managed to catch the person falling into his field of view as they slipped on the slick pavement.

“So sorry I-“

“Watch where you’re-“

Both started and stopped on the same beats, realizing through the torrential downpour just who had managed to stumble into who.

“Um…” a thoroughly soaked Shion gaped a little. “We should get out of the rain.” He had to raise his voice slightly over the rain, but there was a clearly surprised look on his face.

Nezumi only nodded and followed the silhouette of the person he came here to see, but as he realized, clearly wasn’t ready to. He’d wanted to do this on his terms, control how he handled himself, gone in with information instead of blindly and yet… here he was. 

The bakery was warm. Considerably warmer than the rain was, and it made the cold that had permeated Nezumi’s bones all the more noticeable. The door had been locked when they’d arrived, but Shion produced a key with only a moment’s hesitation and they let themselves in.

His gaze drifted around the little shop, remembering how busy it had been before he left, until he caught sight of Shion, bustling around behind the counter, water dripping from the ends of his hair while he fumbled for something.

He produced two mugs and a box of tea from under the tabletop, and Nezumi moved to slide off his jacket, sopping wet as it was, and hung it on a rack by the door. He paused to shiver, hours of walking in the freezing rain would no doubt leave him worse for wear. 

After a few moments of thought, glancing between Shion and the rack, he quietly approached his old friend, a finger hooking in the collar of the other’s jacket and tugging lightly, indicating he wanted to take it from him. The white haired boy jumped and looked over his shoulder at him, eventually catching on and straightening up to slip out of the coat. 

It was heavy with water, Nezumi noticed, and he shook it out a little before it joined his own on the coat rack.

He was thanked with a steaming mug when he returned to the counter, the silence between them seeming to grow now that there were no other distractions. His mouth was full with all the different things he wished he could say— comments, observations, questions… apologies. But nothing would form.

“You’re still taller than me,” Shion broke the tension with a soft laugh and Nezumi couldn’t tell if he felt lighter or only heavier. He noticed the deeper tone in his voice. Different, but reminiscent of the softer lilt it had been 6 years ago.

A lot more had changed than that, he’d started to recognize. Shion’s hair was longer, though it was still wet from the rain, it had been mainly shielded by a thick hat, now discarded behind the register and revealing a small ponytail at the back of his head, bangs still hanging forward and clinging around his ears. The roots of his hair had barely started to show brown, a visual representation of just how much time he’d seen him last. How hopefully, it was a sign of healing. Moving on.

He seemed broader, less baby fat and more lean muscle. At least he’d been taking care of himself, which did come as a relief to the dark haired man. 

He himself _had_ grown taller, but Shion had too, even if it wasn’t as much as Nezumi had. There were probably a good several inches of height between them. 

“I like what you’ve done with your hair,” Nezumi teased with a smirk, running fingers through his own wet ponytail, and it earned him another soft laugh.

“We should probably dry off, it looks like we were both out in the rain a while,” the other man commented.

And he was a man—at some point the airheaded boy that he’d shared a room, a bed, with had grown up, and it made the distance between them seem all the more present. What changes other than just the physical had Shion undergone in their time apart? How had _Nezumi_ changed?

“Tea first,” Nezumi raised his mug to punctuate his point, taking a sip and appreciating the warmth.

Over the top of his mug, Nezumi caught Shion watching him, a hopeless sort of look in his eye, something sad and full of longing, but the look was gone as soon as the cup lowered from his mouth. Maybe Shion thought it would go unnoticed, but it hadn’t, and silence settled between them again.

It wasn’t until they were able to go upstairs to Shion’s old bedroom that they broke the ice again. Shion shared that his mom was visiting some friends for a wedding that night, and they’d be alone in the bakery for a while. He continued on, maybe rambling (even though Nezumi was just happy to hear his voice), that he doesn’t live there with his mom anymore, but she keeps the room clean and functioning for visits. Small talk. Awkward. 

Nezumi offers a few stories of his own—traveling, performing, odd jobs here and there, the story of an obsessive old woman that had tried to buy the wig right off his head. He mentioned meeting Shion’s dad, all those years ago, and Shion himself confirmed that he showed up after a while, but he didn’t stay long. 

Between pointless conversations and words that honestly get them nowhere near the elephant in the room, the both of them are able to shower and dry off, find a way to get the cold room warm, and are left sitting on the end of Shion’s old mattress, side by side but just a little too far away.

Uncomfortable silence edges back towards comfortable again, memories of their quiet shelter from years before resurface.

And then…

"I waited for you."

He’s caught off guard, but Nezumi can’t say he wasn’t expecting it. "Shion..."

"I waited so long Nezumi...”

He tried to avoid wincing. More than anything he had hoped that Shion had got on okay without him—it had been a comfort, assuming and imagining that somewhere out there, Shion had been living in a newly reimagined city, maybe sometimes reminiscing about the few good memories that they’d managed to make in their brief six months together. He had hoped he’d moved on, but hearing that maybe he hadn’t was a difficult blow to take. 

Shion spoke up again, his voice soft and genuine and _hurt_. “People offered things, asked for things after I helped fix the city... but I waited. There was no way I could've known you were even alive out there and-"

Nezumi reached for Shion's hands, gently detaching his fingers from the edge of his sweater where they had been worrying over the fabric and taking them in his own, Shion’s voice stopping in his throat. 

The two just stared at their hands for a few moments, both rougher and more worn than the last time they'd touched, and that sinking feeling returning in Nezumi's stomach when Shion spoke again.

"You probably want to leave again, don't you?"

Nezumi's mouth was dry, and the words wouldn't form.

"I understand. Different types of people, right? At… At least I got to see you again. That’s all I really wanted, I think. Closure. This counts as closure, doesn’t it?"

No, it wasn't. It didn’t. They both knew it too, but here they were, lying to each other and assuming, like a ghost of the old days.

"Shion..."

Nezumi's voice was soft, and he could just _hear_ Shion's frown.

"You don't have to say anything Nezumi-"

He finally looked up, soft, betraying grey eyes meeting all too familiar red, and the other's mouth closed.

"I missed you."

And that was all he could say. He had too much pride to admit that that was most likely an understatement. He’d seen his old friend, whatever he’d been, in everything. Maybe less than he had upon first leaving, but their old memories were what got him through the cold nights, the days spent traveling by himself when he was just so tired of being alone. 

It should've been normal, being alone, but the loneliness was new. He'd let himself get too attached, and at first he beat himself for it, but over time, after how long? 6 years? More? Less? Over the course of his travels, he'd learned to accept their relationship for what it had been.

It was honest. Give and take. After what they'd been through, there had been trust. It was genuine, and god how he'd missed it once it was gone.

Shion looked at him like he hadn't heard him properly after his confession. Like it was the last thing he'd expected to hear.

So slowly, Nezumi repeated himself. "I missed you, Shion."

And it seemed to be enough, because he’s caught off guard by the sudden touch of Shion's warmth pressing against him, arms slipping round his neck, a warm face buried in his shoulder, and tentatively Nezumi's arms circled his old companion's back, eyes closing self-indulgently as he let his hold tighten.

This was the Shion he remembered, warm and innocent, and it was reassuring to him that he'd managed to stay that way, at least a little, and maybe they weren't as adult as they were supposed to be just yet.

"Oh god, _Nezumi_." Shion hummed softly into his skin, and he couldn't help the soft shudder that ran down his spine. What he wouldn't do to make him say those words again, though maybe by different means. Nezumi pulled away, still keeping hands on Shion's waist to keep him there, pleased that the other man's own touch lingered on his shoulders.

Shion is the one who took the leap—closing the distance Nezumi had put between them 6 years ago. It was sweet, soft, everything a reunion kiss should be. The soft pressure of the dark haired man's hands on Shion's sides, the shifting of hands to press into Nezumi's jaw.

They pull apart and Nezumi sees the blush across Shion’s face, drawing a smile out of him. At some point, freckles had appeared on his old companion’s face, maybe from too much time outside, and it kills him a little inside to see the shy little smile that Shion produces. “S-Sorry,” he breathes, embarrassed, and Nezumi doesn’t bother to answer.

Their next kiss was different- a proper one. An "I missed you kiss" that started with a shift in Nezumi's hand placement.

His fingers found Shion’s chin, much like the kisses they'd shared when they were still teenagers, and he brought his mouth to his, guiding his movements if only at first to show him to proper way to tilt his head. Shion picked it up from there, fueled by the sheer desire to be closer, to make up for lost time, and he was pressing into the other, a hand closing lightly around Nezumi's wrist and half-leading half-following it to caress the side of his face.

"I missed you too Nezumi," Shion exhaled, his brow furrowed deeply. He leaned their foreheads together, holding Nezumi’s forearms while the other cradles his face. "So much."

Then followed their next kiss. A mutual start, starting out soft, but open mouthed and then it was _wanting_ and it wasn't long before Nezumi slid his tongue smoothly against Shion's bottom lip. There was a noise that followed ever so softly, though from which they couldn’t quite tell, and it only proved to spur them on even farther.

Nezumi pressed into Shion, giving the extra push to lay Shion back on the bed. He didn't seem to mind, offering a shy brush of his tongue against Nezumi's and a roll of his hips that the other eagerly returned, sucking softly on his bottom lip. Shion gasped softly, taking in air when he could, and Nezumi easily transitioned into pressing his mouth against his companion's throat, basking in the noise that he received from the new sensation. 

It was an exciting thought that no one had kissed him there before, touched him like his roaming hands had begun to, and everything in him glowed warm at the thought of getting to teach Shion something new. To show him and offer him something that he'd reserved for him after all this time.

Teeth and tongue and gentle touches and sucks rewarded the dark haired man with a shy, soft moan.

"Oh god, _Nezumi_..." Shion unknowingly repeated, heated and clinging to him like he would disappear again once the sensations stopped.

Nezumi all but growled in response, gently kissing back up the side of his neck to his ear, playfully nipping at the skin. "I'm right here Shion," he purred, and the friction in their hips returned, causing both of them to fill the space with another set of quiet moans. Sounds reserved for just each other in the emptiness of the room, and soon it was too much, not enough, and neither could really tell or care how they wound up fully on the bed, Shion on top of Nezumi and reattached at the mouth, giving the latter the chance to slide a hand over his ass, the two pressed together regardless.

"Nezumi."

"Mmn..."

And with a grin he flipped them, Shion underneath this time with thighs on either side of Nezumi's hips and with hands creeping up shirts and tangling in hair enough to know where this would take them.

They had a lot to catch up on, but neither of them protested at the chance to refamiliarize themselves with each other for the time being. For now, they had all the time in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> this was mainly just an excuse to write them being dorks but its w/e  
> I might expand on this as well, so its more than just oh hey lets make out but i make no promises :')


End file.
